


i don’t wanna miss you like this

by softelmax



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Eleven | Jane Hopper, Bisexual Mike Wheeler, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gay Will Byers, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Max Needs A Hug, Mental Illness, PTSD, elmax - Freeform, jane still has powers, semi canon, some fluffy bits but mostly just me projecting and torturing my favorite characters, tw abuse, tw self harm reference, vent fic, yes officer this is the fic that broke me while writing it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-26 21:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softelmax/pseuds/softelmax
Summary: After El leaves, Max can’t cope with what happened last summer or with life in general. She falls deeply into a self-destructive, self-hating spiral and no one is around to help. except for El who lives 750 miles too far





	1. i remember it all too well

**Author's Note:**

> TWs for this chapter  
> -nightmares  
> -self hate  
> -self harm mention (not graphic)  
> -swearing  
> -alcohol  
> -past abuse mention (not graphic)  
> -death

_Dear ~~diary~~. useless fucking piece of notebook paper. This is stupid. Why am I doing this? Before he left, Will said that writing down and drawing his “past issues” really helped him. I can’t draw for shit so here’s this journal. My name is Max. I was generously blessed with the holy trifecta. A shit past, a shit present and a shit future. I guess it could’ve started when my mother decided to fuck some guy she met at a concert when I was 5. Things didn’t get much better from there. But the real kick in the teeth is when all that fuckery happened last summer._

_it took away the only people in life who actually got me. Will, Billy (as shitty of a person he ~~is~~. was, after his mom leaving and his dad being abusive, he somehow got it. in his own way.)_  
_and,,,El. sweet reliable El was just as nice and heartbreaking to talk to, but she was 750 miles away in New York fucking city. Most likely with a new boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Definitely someone who isn’t me._

_I normally wouldn’t be pouring my heart out on a piece of paper next to my algebra notes but my mother took away my box cutter, and Neil is fresh out of vodka (of course Is only have myself to blame that. There’s a bottle that’s 95% water sitting in the cabinet. Mocking me.) The boys are probably fast asleep because it’s 2 am in a bumfuck town with nothing to do in the daytime, let alone nighttime. It was tolerable with friends. but all alone it’s unbearab-“_

you know what? this is so stupid. she flings the paper, pen, and a coffee mug of pencils off her desk with one swift arm movement. she throws herself on the bed. Facedown. “1 day and 12 hours,” she thinks. “That’s all you have until you get to see El. you need to keep your shit together and be nice to Neil. You need to not get in any fights.” El would never like someone like her, but still. There’s no harm in trying. She rolls over and her hair flops in her face. she slowly tucks a few strands behind her ear. She pulls out her headphones and walkman and thinks back to happier times.

_**It was a warm October night, and they were having a going-away sleepover. Just 2 days until El and the Byers moved out of Hawkins officially and they were making the best out of it. They had a fun night, reading comics, painting each other’s nails, and watching the new Starwars movie. The real trouble started during the night, El had a nightmare. A bad one. The room started shaking like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Their empty hot chocolate mugs were rattling against each other. The windows falling out of the panes seemed like a real possibility. As soon as she shook off her tiredness and realized what was going on, she crawled out from her sleeping bad and slipped into bed next to the shaking girl. She stroked El’s hair, and quietly asked for permission to touch her. She was answered by a tiny headshake but the meaning was clear “please”.** _  
_**She had held her in her arms, alternating between holding and wiping the hair out of her face. After the violent half-asleep sobbing stopped, El had wrapped her arms around her neck. Max didn’t move a muscle until her heart rate had calmed and she had stopped whimpering. They stayed like that together in a middle world. Not fully awake but also not asleep. Max wasn’t sure what time it was because she didn’t want to disturb the sleeping girl by checking her watch, but she guessed that after about an hour, El rolled over and groaned. She sat up with a hand on the bed for support and was silent until she saw Max’s eyes open. The truth was: she was never asleep. She was watching El sleep so peacefully. Watching the rise and fall of her chest, her occasionally fluttering eyelashes, her (presumably) soft lips set slightly parted. It was more relaxing than sleep. besides: el was her drug and she needed to get a final dose before she left. El made a noise halfway between a giggle and a yawn.** _

_**“I know you’re not actually asleep,” she said softly.** _  
_**Max smiled, (for the last time for a while), and held her hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, you caught me”** _  
_**“Silly” the smaller girl giggled.** _  
_**“I just wanted to thank you. you didn’t have to stay with me. I really appreciate it”** _  
_**Max almost blushed. “I know. I didn’t HAVE to but I wanted to”** _  
_**El gave a small sad smile.** _  
_**“I’m going to miss you. It-it took me so long to make a friend, how am I going to cope in the big city?”** _  
_**El, the girl who Max had seen flip cars and kill people with a single thought, looked small, childish, vulnerable, In need of protection. It broke her heart to imagine her all alone in New York of all places.** _

_**“You’ll have Will and Jonathan! Take it from someone who just moved. It’s not hard to make friends. And you like people more than I do." she lied.** _

_**"You can call me and write any time, and we’ll see each other on holidays and whenever I can scrape together money to take the bus to you.”** _  
_**Jane looked down at the bed, almost as if she was blushing. Max couldn’t tell in the dim light.** _  
_**“Well... ready to go back to sleep? it’s 2:32 am.” El said, a little too fast and nervous.** _  
_**There were no other clocks in the room.** _  
_**“...how did you know that?“** _  
_**“My powers. I know exactly what time it is. It’s always accurate.”** _  
_**Max would’ve paid actual money to see her expression at that moment. It must’ve been priceless because El fell back on the bed laughing so hard she was worried it would wake Joyce and the boys.** _  
_**“I- I really got you! You don’t realize you have a glow in the dark watch” She said, in between laughter.** _  
_**“Let get back to bed, asshole” She replied playfully.** _

_**she rolled her eyes and tugged El’s arm. misjudging the girl’s weight and accidentally yanking her across the bed and landed onto Max’s chest and stomach.** _  
_**“Hi,” Max said, awkwardly very conscious of their noses almost touching.** _

_**The whole atmosphere changed. What was a comfortable conversation, was now tension you could cut with a knife. Each girl waiting for the other to make the first move.** _  
_**El cocked her head. silently asking for permission. She must’ve seen something in Max’s eyes because she leaned in and gave Max just enough time to hope that she remembered to use mouthwash.** _  
_**It ended as suddenly as it started. El gently met Max’s lips with hers. It only lasted for a few seconds, just enough to leave the taste and smell of strawberry chapstick on her lips and chin.** _  
_**“Hello,” she said back in barely a whisper.** _  
_**She carefully** _  
_**got off of Max and went back into her normal sleeping position as if nothing had happened. After a shocked silence, Max joined her. Their hands touching at the very tips. Not quite holding hands but almost. A metaphor for their whole** _ _**relationship.** _

max got jerked out of the memory violently as her walkman ran out of batteries and let out a loud beep. she looked at her watch which tears in her eyes. 2:32 am. Exactly 2 months since she’d been gone. Right down to the minute. She stared at the wall for a second. Feeling nothing but rage (whether at El, herself, or the whole situation she didn’t know) and numbness. They were heavy on her chest like her baggy pajama shirt turned into pure metal. After sitting there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, She made up her mind, threw on her warmest clothes, and slid on her converse. She grabbed her skateboard and unlatched the window. She tossed her backpack and board out of it and then landed hard on her feet. She set off into the night. So beyond caring about anything or anyone except for her it hurt.


	2. hurts more to hold on than to let go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR TW: suicidal ideation.   
> i 100% do not support this, this is a fictional piece. i hate a really bad day, locked myself in my room, and wrote how i was feeling. please if you ever feel suicidal or unsafe please call your local hotline or the national one: 1-800-273-8255.

The cool december air felt nice on Max’s face as she pumps her foot against the gravely road. It had just snowed, so the atmosphere smelled like ice, evergreen trees, and happier journeys to familiar places. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going, only that if she stopped her emotions would come pouring out of her to a point she couldn’t ignore anymore. And that thought terrifies her more than any encounter with the mindflayer. It’s what she’s been ignoring since a week after Eleven left.

It must’ve been muscle memory, or just plain hope, but she eventually finds herself at the Hopper’s house. Or what used to be their house. What used to be a warm escape of happy memories and love, turned into a large wooden box with dark windows and no eggo supremes.no long sleepovers. no middle of the night trips to the pizza place. tripwires. no police car in the front. no El. and certainly no hope.

She picks up her skateboard and walks through the overgrown yard, avoiding the tall grass and snowy patches. she stares at the front door, gathering up her courage.

“I won’t be long” she whispers more to the house than to herself. As she pulls out her bag. she fishes out a rarely used bobby pin and shapes it,thinks a silent prayer, and slides it into the lock. After about 20 grueling minutes of crouching in the cold, the lock clicks.

She holds her breath as she carefully pushes the door open and steps into the place she considered home for so long.

The hard wood creaks as she places her boot against it and walks through the living room.

Without El running over to hug her or the chief starting quick conversation while they waited for her to get dressed, the room seems abandoned. the sofa is in the same place as it was before, as well as a few boxes from the Byers’s garage. Something felt wrong about them using the house as a personal storage shed. She puts her arm out and gently drags her fingertips against the wall, leaving a wide as possible girth around Hopper’s old room and drags her feet across the carpet. to El’s. She stands in front of the door and rocks on her heels for a minute. debating if she should even go in. She tucks a flyaway piece of hair out of her eyes and sighs. Her out of control blind rage was gone, replaced by sinking dread and something similar to guilt. She puts her hand on the cold door handle and opens it, a blast of frigid air from the open window greets her as she takes a step onto the pink rug and walks over the the bed. She plops down and makes herself as comfortable as she can on the side of a box spring with no mattress. She stays sitting there for god knows how long, watching an icicle melt very slowly off the roof outside. 

Her thoughts, which had previously been wild and out of control, were now at a standstill as if someone had pushed the slow motion button on her brain.

She lays out the facts to go over.

My name is Max Mayfield. I am 16 years old. My brother is dead. My parents think he was murdered. My stepfather thinks..no he KNOWS it should’ve been me, a fact he reminds me of every day. El has settled in and made new friends in new york. The boys have moved on with their lives. I’m the odd one out, the only one who can’t cope. I shouldn’t be here. I should’ve died. I should die.

The last thought hits her like a truckload of bricks. She had never thought that before but now that she does... Things are so clear. It’s the perfect solution. It’s not like she’d be leaving a group of grief stricken admirers. Her parents would be glad. With her mom pregnant with a baby girl, they would have a second chance.

All she’d have to do was to wait to say goodbye to el and-The second load of bricks hits her. El. how would she cope? She lost her father and now she’d be losing her as well. Could she handle that? Max thought about it for a second. El would be fine, she decides. She had Joyce, Jonathan, Will, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin. She wasn’t like Max. she had people who cared for her. The sense of numbness she had been struggling through the last few months lifted, she felt like an entirely new person. It would be so easy, and all the months of suffering would be over. For good.

She laughed alone to herself, crazy, relief filled laugh, really. In 9 days, maybe even a week, this torment would be over. All she had to do was to find the right words for El. Logically she knew she could do it sooner and leave a letter but she needed to see El one last time. She had to braid her hair, she needed to hold her soft hand, she needed to have one last laughing fit over El’s wicked sense of humor.

Then she would be free.

She grabs her bag and shuts all the doors behind her, absolutely delighted that she has a solution. It was so clear. It hurt more to keep holding on than to let go. She realized that now. She grabs her skateboard at the front door, relocks it, and carefully walks across the snow filled yard, just to be absolutely sure that she wouldn’t trigger a forgotten trip wire.

She laughed and whooped almost manically the whole way back to her house. It was 3 am, she was days away from death and she had never felt so alive.

She climbed back up into her bedroom window and had a sound nights sleep for the first time in almost a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deep apologies for this being garbage, no beta. all mistakes are mine and this bitchass author doesn’t have energy to do deep editing. i’ll come back and edit tomorrow morning.   
> -clara (awkwardtimelady on tumblr)

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i just wanted to say that i am in no way romanticizing these subjects. this is a fic i wrote at 2 am, in a similar mood. i have PTSD, anorexia, bulimia, depression, and bipolar. i know first hand what this is like, so please don’t assume i mean any disrespect to other sufferers. this is just how it personally manifests itself in me.  
> now that’s thats out of the way: enjoy the fic. this is multi chapter and i’m on bed rest so expect updates.  
> you may be thinking “clara update gays in a stairwell” but i’m tired, it’s 2 am, and instead of sleeping after being discharged from the hospital i’m writing angst.


End file.
